There was once an old Fisherman who was very poor. He could hardly keep himself, his wife, and his three children from starving. Every morning he went out early to fish, but he had made it a rule never to cast his net more than four times a day.
One day he went to the seashore before it was light. He cast his net, and then, when he thought it time, he drew it in to the shore. It was very heavy, and he was sure he had a good draught of fishes. But no! he pulled hard, and when he had his net on the beach he found he had dragged in a dead ass.
He cast it a second time, and again he waited. Then he slowly drew it in, for it was very heavy. This time his hopes rose, but when the net came ashore he found it held only an old basket filled with sand and mud.
Once more he threw his net. The third time never fails, he thought. Again the net came slowly ashore. But when he opened it, there was nothing in it but stones, shells, and seaweed. The poor man was sore distressed. It looked as if he should have nothing to take home to his wife and children.
It was now dawn, and he stopped to say his prayers, for in the East pious men say their prayers five times a day. And after he had said his prayers he cast his net for the fourth and last time. When he had waited long enough, he drew the net in, and saw that it was very heavy.
There was not a fish in the net. Instead, the Fisherman drew out a copper jar. He set it up, and the mouth of the jar was covered with a lid which was sealed with lead. He shook the jar, but could hear nothing.
“At any rate,” he said to himself, “I can sell this to a coppersmith and get some money for it.” But first, though it seemed empty, he thought he would open it. So he took his knife and cut away the lead. Then he took the lid off. But he could see nothing inside. He turned the jar upside down, and tapped it on the bottom, but nothing came out. He set the jar upright again, and sat and looked at it.
Soon he saw a light smoke come slowly forth. The smoke grew heavier, and thicker, so that he had to step back a few paces. It rose and spread till it shut everything out, like a great fog. At last it had wholly left the jar and had risen into the sky. Then it gathered itself together into a solid mass, and there, before the Fisherman, stood a great giant of a Genie.
“Get down on your knees,” said the Genie to the Fisherman, “for I am going to kill you.”
“And why do you kill me? Did I not set you free, from the jar?”
“That is the very reason I mean to kill you; but I will grant you one favor.”
“And what is that?” asked the Fisherman.
“I will let you choose the manner of your death. Listen, and I will tell you my story. I was one of the spirits of heaven. The great and wise Solomon bade me obey his laws. I was angry and would not. So, to punish me, he shut me up in a copper jar and sealed it with lead. Then he gave the jar to a Genie who obeyed him, and bade him cast it into the sea.
“During the first hundred years that I lay on the floor of the sea, I made a promise that if any one set me free I would make him very rich. But no one came to set me free. During the second hundred years, I made a promise that if any one set me free I would show him all the treasures of the earth. But no one came to set me free. During the third hundred years. I made a promise that if any one came to set me free I would make him king over all the earth, and grant him every day any three things he might ask.
“Still no one came. Then I became very angry, and as hundreds of years went by, and I still lay in the jar at the bottom of the sea, I swore a great oath that now if any one should set me free I would at once kill him, and that the only favor I would grant him would be to let him choose his manner of death. So now you have come and have set me free. You must die, but I will let you say how you shall die.”
The Fisherman was in great grief. He did not care so much for himself, for he was old and poor, but he thought of his wife and children, who would be left to starve.
“Alas!” he cried. “Have pity on me. If it had not been for me you would not be free.”
“Make haste!” said the Genie. “Tell me how you wish to die.”
When one is in such great peril his wits fly fast, and sometimes they fly into safety. The Fisherman said:—
“Since I must die, I must. But before I die answer me one question.”
“Ask what you will, but make haste.”
“Dare you, then, swear that you really were in the jar? It is so small, and you are so vast, that the great toe of one of your feet could not be held in it.”
“Verily I was in the jar. I swear it. Do you not believe it?”
“No, not until I see you in the jar.”
At that the Genie, to prove it, changed again into smoke. The great cloud hung over the earth, and one end of it entered the jar. Slowly the cloud descended until the sky was clear, and the last tip of the cloud was in the jar. As soon as this was done, the Fisherman clapped the lid on again, and the Genie was shut up inside.
